


Full Stop

by fringewrites



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Angst, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e12 Remember, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Season/Series 05, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringewrites/pseuds/fringewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't unsee you tearing his throat out with your teeth," Daryl said in one speedy breath. He could feel Rick's cock pulse against his at his voice. </p><p>Rick looked up at him from his place on Daryl's jugular but he didn't move, he knew it wasn't why Daryl brought that up. Daryl thought about how Joe's blood mingled between their facial hair when he kissed Rick, slumped up against that car that morning. He let out a gasp, "You can't unknow what you did. What <i>we</i> did." His knees started to buckle at the increased speed and pressure Rick was setting. "We'll never be like them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Stop

**Author's Note:**

> I do NOT own The Walking Dead or any of its characters.

Even when he was sitting still, you could practically see Daryl’s skin crawling. His hands were shaking, fingers tapping, eyes darting back and forth, generally scaling the walls and pacing the floor like a fox in a trap. At his post on Rick’s porch, everyone in the neighborhood was low-key staring him down like he was a grenade with the pin half pulled, curious as to whether they should all keep treading lightly around him, or throw him over the wall and out of their secure little borders before it was too late. Daryl of course wasn't stupid, he could feel their eyes burning into him, trying to scrape off the dirt and blood and find the kind of neighbor they wanted him to be, or trying to erase him all together, not that there’s any difference between the two of those. It’s just that the negative attention of strangers wasn't measuring up to the crinkling of wind blowing through the apple trees and flooding his ears like the late night static T.V. stations of his past. Whether it’s lying on the floor in some tweaker gang’s single-wide, or behind the gates of a post-apocalyptic yuppie paradise, when you felt out of place the quiet could be the loudest thing.

He wanted to be able to close his eyes and ground himself to a singularity like he used to, just to find some goddamn quiet in all the noise making his brain itch. The idea of closing your eyes in this world was a fool’s notion though. Back then the worst he’d catch for shutting out the world was a whoopin’ from mama’s douchebag of the month for refusing to listen, here it could get you bit. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he brought everything to a full stop but he was willing to bet it was long before it all went to the dogs.

Daryl tried to focus his attention on laying the possum entrails neatly in line on the porch. Aaron had insisted that Alexandria’s pantry was well-stocked, and that he hadn't needed to drag dinner in from the outside. Abraham and Rosita seemed excited enough for the return of their favorite pre-apocalypse manufactured foods, but Daryl kept up an unphased front upon seeing the shelves stacked high with S'ghetti Rings, pudding cups, and other luxuries. The others didn't suspect it, but Daryl was more well-read than he would ever let on. He could distinctly remember laying low in the regional library a few miles down from hell sweet home. In his wrinkly-slept-in-too-big-hand-me-down Levis, he had looked like a sad combination of the summer-school kids and the grubby homeless folk seeking free all-day air conditioning. Wedged between two bookshelves, he'd filled his afternoons with local legends and foreign fables. He'd thought he had nothing left to learn when he stumbled upon the cautionary tales of the Greeks. At fifteen, even he could have told Persephone that nothing good comes free; not pomegranate seeds, not shelter, not nothing. Daryl stopped going before the library became a hot spot for the police, shooing off the dirt from the uncomfortable families. He knew which one he was. He knew there were no safe places, not then and surely not now.

"You gonna at least cook that inside?" a smooth deep voice asked. Daryl sneered up at Michonne from her place between the top step and the door way. He wasn't sure when she'd gotten back from talking to Deanna, couldn't have been long ago though. "Why don't we-"

"They're scared of me, so you're here tryna hide me inside." It didn't even have the hint of a question mark to it. 

Michonne's mouth became a straight line for a moment. "I know we haven't had the best of luck where walls are involved," she allowed Daryl to scoff at the clear understatement "but you have to try." Michonne knelt down next to him trying to catch his eyes, "You have to."

Daryl forced out a laugh before looking up from his kill. "What's trying look like, huh? Talkin' about how useful we could be? Actin' like we already give a shit about this place or the people in it? Beggin 'em to keep us?" Michonne rolled her eyes but Daryl knew what these type of people wanted. His mama's sat across enough fat, well-manicured welfare gate-keepers to know what a fuckin' jerk off session these things were.

"We do what we have to for a chance Daryl." Michonne spat as indignantly as she had to Rick when he was having his doubts.

"Y'know you've gone soft. We had a good thing and you're the one that kept hoppin' the fence tracking a cold trail of blood for what? Revenge for Andrea? What's got you pining for a house now huh?" Daryl delivered with a particularly rough tear at the possum's flesh.

Michonne stood up and stared out into the street for a moment. "Yeah, back then I was angry. The Governor took something from me and I wanted to take his head, but I didn't let it make me lose sight of what's important. I didn't let it take you guys from me." Daryl didn't look up at her, he just shrugged his shoulders as though to ask 'Are you done?' . "The only difference between me then and you now is that you just can't stop. You've been out there too long. You have to stop Daryl. You have to stop or you're gonna lose sight of us. Or is that what you want?" Michonne's words tasted like blood in her mouth and she could feel her fingertips digging on just this side of too hard into her palms. 

Daryl slammed his hunting knife onto the pale wooden porch. "Why do you wanna be here so bad?" he asked again.

There was a solid silence between them before Michonne collected the willpower to answer. "What happened to Carl...what almost happened to Carl that happened on the outside." she breathed.

Daryl felt a punch to the gut. Guilt. "That happened 'cause of other humans. Not walkers. In here we're fuckin surrounded."

"That was an ambush," Michonne assured him, not bothering to mention his role in it all. "In here, we got our eyes on all of them." Daryl finally looked up at her again and she smiled.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Deanna says this community is about transparency," Michonne quoted. "I want you to stop being so obvious."  
***

"Why do you want to join our community?" Deanna asked from behind the camera. Transparency for some Daryl thought as he paced in and out of frame.

"The kid and the baby. They deserve a roof over their head."

***  
There was something painfully familiar in the way Rick stood with his back against the porch railing, wedding band gliding over his newly smooth face, talking about how Lori and he used to dream about living in a neighborhood like this one. It made Daryl's stomach turn and ears burn. The open space of the porch felt suffocating and he could swear he was aware of every stitch of his clothing. 

"Well here we are." Daryl supplied, grounding Rick back to the present. Daryl secretly wished he was wherever Rick was. He envied the way Rick could talk about his late wife like she was any old deceased person from before all this, like she didn't die cold in a prison closet at the hands of their son. Here Daryl was wondering if he would ever be able to say Beth’s name again without the urge to press his palms hard against his eyelids, fighting off the angry flood of tears behind them. He felt like he could punch Rick.

***

That night Rick told them all they'd be staying together. Daryl hadn't seen so many of them all sleeping at once since the prison. It was sometime late into the night when Rick decided to take a walk, Daryl didn't want to admit to the relief it gave him to be the only one of them in the house still up. Even the family was beginning to look at him like a loaded gun, Carol couldn't leave him be, it was exhausting acting like he could breathe underwater. Staring out the window all he could see was the broadside of the empty house next to theirs. He idly wondered how anyone could live like this. There was a hitch in Judith's breath, the slightest hiccup from her pack-n-play before he could hear the beginnings of a sob. 

"Hey shh-shh-shh-shh," Daryl whispered as he reached in to pick her up. Judith's face was already contorting into a silent breathless scream as she became aware of her surroundings. Looking desperately around the living room at all the sleeping forms strewn across the floor, an idea struck. Supporting her head and her bottom, bouncing her in his arms, Daryl carried Judith up the stairs, whispering shushes like an incantation to keep her quiet until he could find an empty bedroom. Daryl closed the door behind him with the heel of his foot, still bouncing the quietly sobbing baby in a steady rhythm. He hadn't handled Judith much when she was upset, that had really been Beth's territory. He didn't remember the words to any songs either, so he just hummed some of the old hymns he thought he heard Beth sing before. It hadn't occurred to him that Beth might have sang to him after the prison fell because she missed having someone to sing to, he'd never asked, he just assumed her tears were always for her old man. 

Burying his nose in Judith's soft, thin hair, Daryl knew he couldn't come back from how badly he missed Judith at first when he thought he'd never see her again, couldn't escape from how he'd pushed that down in favor of keeping him and Beth alive. Beth cried that night about how she'd genuinely thought they could live a normal life at the prison and that maybe she'd become an aunt and her daddy could be a grandpa, she probably missed Judith then but Daryl still wouldn't let himself feel anything but grateful that he still had Beth. So he followed her to the country club, took her to a house like his old man's, and got her her first drink, didn't let her out of sight for a second and when they finally found themselves in a good little well-kept place, God he'd have done anything to stay. The fact was that when Beth was all he had left in the world, new folks or not, he was gonna do whatever it took to keep that. He gave up looking for the group. he always told himself it's cause he was sure they were all dead, but was starting to think that maybe he was just happy for once and didn't want to take the gamble. Daryl was sure he couldn't come back from that. 

***

Daryl didn't remember much before he felt Rick's arms wrapping around him, not exactly pulling him off the man under him, just making room between them while Rick used his words to convince Daryl to let go. It wasn't working. The kid tried to hit Glenn, so Glenn put him on the ground, and Daryl was fittin' to put him out. It was as good as a reflex. When Rick finally managed to hoist Daryl off the kid, Rick had to stand between them. Daryl was pacing back and forth trying to get back in there when Deanna called for everyone's attention, that Rick and Michonne had a place here as the new constables. So there it was, everybody had their place in Alexandria except for Daryl. He could feel his lungs constrict, but they wouldn't exhale. He felt warm but like he might be shaking. Hoisting his bow over his shoulder, Daryl began to walk away, he's sure he would have ran if he wasn't so dizzy. 

He staggered back to the house they'd all shared the night before. Nobody was home, everyone was out doing something. He could hear Rick's feet padding along behind him but he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge it, to turn around and tell Rick to fuck off. All he could concentrate his energy on was moving in a straight line, getting himself behind a closed door where no one could see him having a fit over all the fucking noise, all the fucking whispers, all the fucking eyes. He nearly broke the front door of its hinges swinging it open. He didn't bother to close it, knew Rick would catch it just a few seconds later. He didn't stop but he stayed in the living room, pacing in a square foot, while Rick stood facing him. 

"Daryl what are you doing?" Rick finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

Daryl turns on his heel and steps up to Rick. "I'm gonna take a shower," he pursed his lips for a minute trying to push down a shout bubbling in his chest "Might as well right?" he whispered throwing up his hands. Rick simply nods and extends a hand, it takes a minute to register what he's asking Daryl to do, that now even Rick is worried Daryl's about to fire. Daryl rested the harness of his crossbow in Rick's outstretched palm and turned to walk up the stairs. He knew the master bedroom had an en suite bathroom. 

He closed the bathroom door and threw his vest to the floor before starting the water. It pounded heavy against the tiled floor as Daryl turned the knob to heat it up. Waiting for it he leaned against the door, tapping his fingers on the wood for a moment before he heard a sound just outside the door, probably on the other side of the bed. Was it really not enough that Rick had his fucking bow? Now he had to stand outside the door to make sure he didn't climb out the window? Is that what he thought he was gonna do? Daryl violently swung the door open to find Rick sat up against the side of the bed facing him. Rick raised his eyebrows, putting his hands up, but before he could say anything, Daryl grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back into the bathroom with him. The door slammed behind them, and the crossbow sank off of Rick's shoulder and onto the floor.

"What you wanna watch?" Daryl growled ripping open the buttons to Rick's shirt as he tried to step out of his shoes. Before Rick could manage to get his fly open, Daryl opened the shower door and pushed him under the stream of scalding hot water. Rick reached for the knob and pushed it to the left to try and get some reprieve from the scorching water before pulling his pants and underwear off in one sweep and throwing them outside the shower door, where they joined Daryl's jeans in a pool on the floor. Daryl didn't give Rick the chance to speak, he didn't want to hear anything Rick had to tell him, so he just pushed him up against the cold tile wall and stuck his tongue in his mouth. Rick didn't know what to make of it all. It'd been so long since they'd done anything like this, it wasn't unwelcome but it was punctuated by just how clearly upset Daryl was, it had never been angry or rough like this. 

With his hands on Rick's shoulders, Daryl was practically pushing Rick through the wall. He was trying to push passed this Rick to find the one that he knew. The man was all stubbly chin and aftershave. Rick was more the sheriff he was when they first met than the man he'd come to build a family with, and it was threatening to make his heart burst from his chest with utter hatred and heartbreak. Couldn't Rick see that they couldn't come back from all they'd done? That Daryl couldn't move backwards? That he just couldn't _stop_? Rick's hands moved down Daryl's chest, streaking with dirty water, reaching for his hips, pulling him closer until they were flush together. He wanted Daryl to feel how solid he was, to convince him he was real and he was here. Daryl bucked up against Rick, pushing a groan through their unrelenting kiss. 

When Rick flipped them so that Daryl was pressed between him and the wall, Daryl reached up behind him to tug his hair back and kiss his neck, but found there just wasn't enough hair anymore. He opted for dragging his nails down Rick's back so hard he whimpered at the sheer punishment of it all. Rick wasn't giving up though, he reached for the shower gel on the shelf and poured some into his hand. Rick kissed Daryl deep and dirty, running his sudsy hands up and down his torso, slowly massaging his way down to his core and then his cock. It was frustrating being in this position. All Daryl wanted to do was show Rick that every time they stopped moving, it felt like he was crashing through a brick wall, like he was on an endless high speed run through any and all resistance that would meet him, that this was the biggest brick wall Rick had ever put up for him and he was breaking. This was all very difficult to convey of course when Rick was pushing their cocks together through his soapy hand. He settled for squeezing his eyes shut, grunting as Rick started to pump them in earnest, licking and kissing into his open mouth. 

Daryl was rolling his hips now, his shoulders flat against the wall and the pounding water hissing in his ears. Rick was just starting to nibble at his neck, he felt like he was on fire, overwhelmed in the best way ever. "I can't unsee you tearing his throat out with your teeth," Daryl said in one speedy breath. He could feel Rick's cock pulse against his at his voice. Rick looked up at him from his place on Daryl's jugular but he didn't move, he knew it wasn't why Daryl brought that up. Daryl thought about how Joe's blood mingled between their facial hair when he kissed Rick, slumped up against that car that morning. He let out a gasp, "You can't unknow what you did. What _we_ did." His knees started to buckle at the increased speed and pressure Rick was setting. "We'll never be like them. So just stop- _Aah!_ " Rick kissed Daryl heatedly as Daryl began go come all over his hand, muscles flexing and spasming beneath his skin, shoulders finally slumping in relaxation. Daryl sank to his knees and took Rick's cock into his mouth with no hesitation, pumping it with his hand until Rick came with a shout. Daryl watched it all swirl into the drain.

He stayed that way, leaning his head against Rick's thigh as Rick took the initiative to massage shampoo into Daryl's scalp. The water had long gone cold, but neither of them seemed to mind, because neither of them said anything. The post-coital silence never did feel awkward to them. When there weren't any suds left in Daryl's hair, Rick finally turned off the water, they still stayed there, listening to the ringing silence and the drip-drip-dripping of the faucet. 

"Don't make me ask-" Rick started.

"Say it." Daryl commanded at the same time.

Rick took in a shaky breath. "Don't leave us," he said. Daryl rolled his eyes and held back a wince as he moved to the balls of his feet and stood up. Before he could leave the shower Rick gripped his arm and looked him in the eye. "Don't leave me." he whispered with more effort.

"I'm not going anywhere if you're not," Daryl stated wringing his hair between his fists. Rick didn't bother to mention that Jessie could cut it or that it might look good braided.

***

"If they can't make it. Then we'll just take this place." Rick waited to tell Carol and Daryl once they were on the front porch in the dead of night.

Daryl took a drag of his cigarette. He guessed things looked full circle, but that sure as hell doesn't mean they're stopping.


End file.
